


Other Worlds Than These

by VHScrow



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Era, Canon-Typical Behavior, Character Study, Gen, Original Character-centric, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, Pre-Canon, Work In Progress, also kind of!, esp from queen vanessa, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24636280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VHScrow/pseuds/VHScrow
Summary: The night is dark and the world is cold even with the moon high overhead, but the young prince of Subcon and his adoptive parent have other plans away from that land. What are they getting up to in their travels throughout the multiverse?
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in an AU where the Prince and Queen Vanessa had a kid before the whole everything went down between them. I hope you all enjoy!

He escapes into the forest.

The forest behind the manor, with the tall trees that seemed to go on forever, their branches extending up towards the sky. The dark forest, where when the night starts to fall, he is no longer allowed to play in, for fear of being lost and monsters of all kinds that could reach him then. This is where he escapes.

He had seen everything that had gone down from the crack in his doorway. His mother, the Queen - her heart had turned to ice, and she had locked her father, the soon-to-be King, in the cellar in a fit of rage. Her own transformation into a monster was happening when he bolted out of his room, down the hallway and out the back door, into the woods.

And he keeps running, running until he is out of breath. With his small, child-sized riding cloak pulled around his shoulders tightly, he collapses onto the ground on his hands and knees, heaving gasps of air into his tiny lungs. He was always so fast.

But now he is so, so tired. The screaming from the fight his parents had is still ringing in his ears, and he just curls up in his cloak on the ground and shakes with fear.

It takes a while before the ringing dies down. It takes even longer before he dares to peek out from underneath his hood, only to be greeted with darkness and the silence of the woods. It’s nearly pitch black; night has fallen, and the only things he can see are the things immediately in front of his young eyes - beyond that is nothing but dark.

He shakes even more, not knowing where he is or how far he’s run or even how long it’s been. What time was it when he left? Afternoon, maybe? Early evening?

After a few more minutes of waiting, he slowly pushes himself to his feet, feeling the cold start to seep through the cracks where his cloak did not cover. He also notices that, in his panic, he had forgotten to grab his shoes - his feet are bare on the dirty forest floor, and ache with bruises and splinters from his run. His whole body shudders with effort, and he realizes he is exhausted.

But he knows he has to get back inside. Back to his house, the manor. Who knows what things are lurking out here in the forest beyond?

Glancing around, he pulls his riding cloak tighter around his small form and turns in a half-circle before starting to make his way slowly back through the forest. He must’ve just run in a straight line - getting back might take some time, but it shouldn’t be forever, yeah?

Except he can’t even see the moon through the thickness of the trees. He trips and stumbles over branches, bushes, and his own two feet constantly, and he can’t even see what direction he’s going in - for all his little mind knows, he might just be going deeper into the forest.

He hears a growl and jumps, curling down into himself before looking around frantically. Nothing seems to be there, though, and after a second growl he realizes it’s his own stomach. That’s right. He didn’t have dinner yet.

The young boy lets out a small whine before standing back up again, again starting his trudge through the forest. This time, though, his little voice cries out, “Mama?”

No response as he keeps walking, so he tries again. “Mama?”

No response again, but he keeps trying. Again and again. Maybe as he gets closer to the manor she’ll be able to hear him.

Eventually, though, his throat chokes up with effort and he sinks to his knees, huddling into his cloak again. He is so tired from running, from talking, and the night grows ever darker still as he sees no way out of this forest.

He’s never going to find his way out of here, is he? He’s never going to get back home, never going to see his parents again, never going to be able to eat a tasty meal with them again...

His little body starts to shake, and he huddles up against a tree and begins to cry. It’s a soft cry that soon turns into a wail, echoing throughout the trees as he buries his face in his hands and sobs.

And there is no one around to hear him.

—

He doesn’t know how long he’s spent there. A few minutes? Hours? A day? The cold had already seeped into his little bones to the point of numbness, and the night seems to have stretched on forever. The growl in his stomach seems to never fade.

This must be a nightmare. It has to be. But it doesn’t seem like he would be waking up anytime soon.

The terrible silence of the forest is suddenly broken by the distant sound of leaves and twigs crunching underfoot. The child jolts up into alertness, snapping his head in the direction of the sound and staring intently. He doesn’t know whether to run or cower, and the fear crawls up into his throat as the noise seems to approach him head on. Is this to be one of the monsters in the forest that he had been warned about? If so, is this to be his end?

Listening more closely, even as the noise is getting closer, he can hear a voice over the crack of the underbrush. It is a sorrowful, wispy voice, one seemingly muffled behind something else. _“...really let itself go, huh? What a shame…”_

A dark figure approaches through the trees in his line of sight, and the child stays frozen in his spot as the figure slowly gains recognition in the dim light of the forest. It is a tall humanoid, wearing a deep red tunic and purple hood with dark pants and shoes. In their - he? She? He’s not sure - hands grasp a long, gnarled walking stick, and from what he can see under their hood is a stark white porcelain mask.

At least he assumes it to be a mask. It could be face paint.

The humanoid catches sight of him as soon as they step into the sparse moonlight, and with a jolt he can see two glowing, slitted green eyes peering at him from dark sockets. Definitely a mask.

He pulls his riding cloak more over his body to hide himself, but to no avail. The creature has seen him, and leans down towards him—

_“A child?”_ That same wispy voice from earlier. _“What are you doing here, little one?”_

He glances up at the masked creature, and he is sure there is fear in his eyes, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even know if he should.

The masked creature takes note of this, and leans back away from him, taking a step back to give him some space. _“I apologize if I had scared you. Not every day you see someone in the middle of the woods….What is your name?”_

The child stares for a bit longer before responding. “...William-René.”

The sound of his own voice shocks him - it sounds so hoarse, so small, so frail and fragile like it could break at any second. There was also a quality to it that he could not put his finger on - something akin to an echo, or a reverb.

The creature’s eyes flicker with emotion - recognition? Confusion? It was hard to tell behind their mask. _“William-René, son of Prince Luke and Queen Vanessa?”_

He nods slowly. It was true, those were the names of his Mama and Papa.

The creature simply stares. _“What are you doing out here? Did something happen?”_

William’s breath catches in his throat at this. He doesn’t know what to say - the words weren’t coming to properly describe the incident he had seen before he had made his escape into the woods. He simply stares back at the creature, pulling his cloak tighter around his body.

_“...You’re shaking,”_ says the humanoid. _“Here.”_ They pull something out of their massive pack - which, somehow, was not noticed before - and lean down towards the young prince, carefully wrapping it around him. It’s a soft blanket, small enough for a child like him, and William gladly accepts the warmth, even though it doesn’t do much against the cold in his very core.

The creature takes a seat on a log a bit away from where he sits, resting his walking stick against the side of a tree and staring at William once again. _“You shouldn’t be out here, young one. Are you able to find your way home?”_

“...No...” He doesn’t want to admit it, but he is so very lost out here in these woods, and he wants nothing more than to go home and have everything be alright.

_“Would you like me to help you do that?”_

William blinks, and then looks at the creature, who meets his gaze evenly. Mama always told him to be wary of strangers, especially strangers who promised something that he wanted. What if this creature was actually a scary monster, who would shift into a terrible form and eat him? What if they would take him deeper into the forest for him to never return? All kinds of things could happen.

But there was always a possibility for them to be telling the truth, and he was desperate to get back home and see his Mama and Papa again. Maybe he could even talk sense back into his Mama…

“...Pinky promise?” William asks carefully. “You promise you will get me back home?”

_“Cross my heart,”_ responds the humanoid, _“and pinky swear, as well.”_ They hold out their hand - their skin dark as night, and purple like a bruise, which makes for a weird combination - and extend one pinky finger.

William hesitates for a bit before extending his own pinky and linking it with the creature’s - their touch feels like ice and fire at the same time, and it was a strange sensation for the young boy. “What’s your name?”

_“Oh, I forgot about that, I’m sorry.”_ They retract their hand and grab their walking stick, pushing themselves to their feet. _“People here know me as the Badge Seller, but you may call me Alkmene.”_ They extend that same hand towards William to help him up. _“Shall we get going?”_

William nods, grabbing onto the blanket Alkmene had given them with one hand and grasping their hand with the other, them pulling him up easily. They give him a nod in return and start forward through the trees, the young prince trailing beside them.


	2. Chapter 2

“...A. Al...alk-“

_“Alkmene,”_ they gently correct William again. _“I understand if it’s hard to say. A lot of people get it wrong.”_

The two are still making their way through the dark woods - the child had run deep in his flight - with William hanging on Alkmene’s back, his arms wrapped around their shoulders. The merchant seems to have no problem carrying him, their walking stick, and their large backpack at the same time, as well.

“...You said people also call you Badge Seller?”

_“That is correct.”_

“Why?”

Alkmene gives a small laugh at this. _“I sell badges, of course. They’re little pins you can stick on your clothes that grant you magic powers, depending on the badge.”_

William shifts a bit on their back. Holding onto their shoulders like this was getting kind of tiring, but it was at least better than walking. “Like what?”

_“Well, there’s one that attracts any collectibles towards your person from nearby, such as any loose pons or other trinkets! There’s also one that gives you a beam attack, where you can shoot a laser from your weapon of choice; one that makes it so you can jump three times in the air instead of just once or twice; one where you die after getting hit only once—“_

“That one sounds really bad,” William interrupts.

Alkmene laughs again, louder this time. _“It is pretty terrible, but some people like the challenge.”_

“Do you make the badges yourself?”

_“Some of them I do.”_ They pause for a second to step over a log and look around the area once again, shifting direction slightly before continuing on their trek. _“Some are harder to make than others. And still some others I happen to find on my journeys and bring them around.”_ They pause again, and it’s a bit longer before they speak, this time with confusion tinging their voice. _“Is it colder over here to you, young one, or is it just me?”_

William shakes his head no, before realizing Alkmene couldn’t see him on their back. “It all feels the same to me, mister.”

_“‘Mister’. Huh.”_ Alkmene adjusts their shoulders a bit before continuing on, not saying anything else.

“I don’t know what else to call you,” William mumbles, slightly ashamed. “What should I call you?”

_“Either term is fine,”_ Alkmene responds, not sounding at all offended. _“Mister, sir, ma’am, it’s all okay - I have no preference.”_

“...Can I call you Badger?”

They stop in their tracks, and their head turns back to look at the child. William can see one green slit pupil looking at him cautiously from behind their mask. _“Badger?”_

“Yeah! Because ‘Badge Seller’ is too long and it’s hard to pronounce your real name.” William gives them a smile, and then his voice wavers a bit when they continue to stare. “I-If that’s okay…?”

The newly dubbed ‘Badger’ does not respond at first, instead looking forward again and seeming to think to themselves. _“‘Badger’...I like that. Sure. You can call me that.”_ They continue walking forward, seemingly a bit faster now. William couldn’t tell if it was a happy fast or something else.

The two continue on in silence for a bit, and even after a short time a sudden chill hits the child, him pulling one hand back to wrap his cloak tighter around himself. The more he breathed - which, he finally noted, seemed to barely fill his lungs anymore - the more he could see his breath when facing away from Alkmene. The merchant in turn made no other comment on this.

Soon enough, William can see a break through the trees that seemed to thin, and pointed this out to Alkmene, who nods silently in response and heads off in that direction. The crunching under their feet was more akin to the crunch of weight on ice now - like in the winter when the grass was all frozen and sharp and slippery. Alkmene once again adjusts William on their back and steps through the break in the trees.

The light that reflects off the snow and ice on the ground blinds the child for just a second before his eyes are able to adjust. Once they do so, though, he can see snow covering the ground of what was once his home. Packed, icy snow, like it had been frozen and undisturbed for a while. In the distance is the lake in front of the manor - completely frozen over, of course - and then the manor itself, dark and towering and ominous. Completely unlike how he remembers it.

Alkmene had stopped in their tracks, staring up at the manor in silence before speaking. There is a sort of edge to their voice when they do so. _“Do you know how long you were outside for, young one?”_

William shakes his head again. “No. I couldn’t tell the time in the dark...”

Alkmene...doesn’t sigh, no, but breathes out gently and with distress. _“It must have been...quite a long time, then, judging by the state of this place. Last time I was here, it was all happy and vibrant…”_

“...Mama got angry,” William replies, his voice low as Alkmene starts up again on their walk to the front door. “She was...really mad at Papa for something, and there was a lot of screaming and crying, and then her guards came in, and she was looking all dark and tangled when I ran…”

_“Mm.”_ Alkmene simply nods as they trudge through the snow and ice. _“Do you know what she was mad about?”_

“No…” He looks away, going quiet for a bit. “I ran because I got scared…”

They nod again, having been able to circle around the side of the manor and reaching the front porch. There was almost an entire wall of snow blocking the front door, and William gives the statues guarding the porch a wary glance as they step up to it.

Alkmene pauses at the door, hesitating before looking back at William. _“...I hate to say it, but this feels like a bad idea.”_

“I wanna see her again, though. I gotta see if she and Papa are okay.”

_“Okay…”_ Alkmene hesitates again before knocking a few times on the door.

And they wait.

Silence.

They try again. Still silence. The snow seems to muffle whatever sound that could potentially be there, which makes it all the more eerie in the area.

“...Try the handle?” William whispers, and they do - only to be greeted with a locked door and the snow barricading it.

The two stand in silence for a bit before Alkmene asks, _“Is there another way in?”_

William thinks for a bit. “There’s a door in the back to the cellar, but Mama hates it when I go out that way…”

Alkmene shifts William on their back again before heading around the side patio, and even with their careful footsteps, the wooden boards still creak underneath. They soon make it around and step down the back stairs, easily finding the snow-covered cellar doors. When they approach, however, the doors swing open by themselves with a _slam_ , causing the merchant and the child to flinch.

_“That’s not ominous at all,”_ they comment dryly before turning back to William. _“Are you okay to walk now?”_

William nods before jumping down off Alkmene’s back, tightening his cloak even more to combat his sudden shakiness as the two descend into the cellar.

It’s dark as the two make their way down the steps; dark and damp, with the sound of water dripping from cracks in the ceiling where the snow melted through and the water corroded the concrete. The cellar floor meets them quickly, and there is light down here - barely - due to only a handful of torches illuminating the area. William takes the lead down here, skirting around the area where the alcohol that he wasn’t able to ever touch is stored, making his way towards the door that leads to the bottom floor of the manor.

When he turns his head, though, to check to see if his companion was following him, he stops, noticing that Alkmene is staring at the back wall of the open space of the cellar.

“Badger?” he asks, carefully making his way back to the merchant. “The way is over here—“

_“Were these here before?”_ Alkmene interrupts, gesturing to something on the back wall. William stands beside them, staring at the wall, finally noticing something out of the ordinary - there are shackles on the wall that seem to have been forced open, and in the middle of them all is a dark spot in the vague shape of a person.

William is silent at this sight, but his mind is racing. What happened here? It doesn’t look good, whatever it is, but he hopes it was a miracle.

“...We should keep going,” the child murmurs, turning his back on the sight and making his way towards the door again. After a moment, he could hear Alkmene turn and follow him as well, from the telltale click of their boots and their staff on the ground.

He carefully pushes open the door to the exit of the cellar - it creaks open rather quietly, without much force - and makes his way up the stairs into the dark foyer of the manor.

And it is dark. There are no lights on in the foyer, save for the moonlight shining through the window that barely illuminates the area at all. The child makes note of this - why are all the lights off? - as he steps out onto the rug in the foyer, with Alkmene right behind him.

_“This…”_ Alkmene pauses, their voice low, glancing around the area as William steps ahead. _“This isn’t good. Are you sure about this?”_

William doesn’t respond, once again feeling that sudden chill as he steps towards what he knows to be Queen Vanessa’s room. It is probably a bad time to disturb her - with it being the middle of the night and also everything he saw - but he needs to know if she was okay. He needs to see her again.

So, he knocks once, twice on the door to her room, quietly calling out, “Mama?”

There’s a split-second pause of silence, and suddenly he could hear Alkmene say, _“Wait, kid, get back!”_ before the door to the room slams open with a rush of cold air—

And what is standing before him is not his mama.

What is standing before him is a gnarled, tangled, shadowy monster with two glowing red eyes, staring down at him from the doorway. The child takes two steps back instantly, stricken with fear - this was the monster that his mama was turning into when he ran off into the forest.

And the monster stares down at him, silently, and a crooked grin spreads over her face, and she steps forward, before speaking in a wavering, arguably _terrifying_ voice:

###  **“How nice of you to return to me, child—“**

_“William!”_ Alkmene’s voice jerks the child back to reality, and he scrambles backwards as fast as he can, pressing his back to the wall behind him, tears starting to stream down his face out of sheer terror.

The monster-that-is-not-his-mother takes another step forward, speaking again, ignoring the badge seller:

###  **“Where are you going, my son? Don’t you want your mama back?”**

—and with that, she lunges for the child, arms outstretched, and William closes his eyes, preparing for the end—

—before he is yanked away by his cloak by another force, stumbling to the side and opening his eyes again as Alkmene holds him close, their voice betraying their emotions, frantic yet determined, _“We need to get out of here, kid,”_ and they raise their staff with their free hand before slamming the butt of it on the ground—

—and Queen Vanessa _shrieks_ as bright light shines from beneath the badge seller’s feet, illuminating the room, blinding her, blinding the child before he closes his eyes tightly and holds onto Alkmene as best as he can—

—and suddenly, he is falling.

Falling, falling, _fading._

The sensation doesn’t really go away when he opens his eyes, still clutching tightly to Alkmene, realizing they are in a completely different place now. The area around him is a dark, swirling, unidentifiable color - mostly a red tint, if he had to guess - with various objects floating around them: a tree there, its branches uprooted and yet still very alive; a train whistling past them in the distance, chugging along invisible tracks. Stars glimmer on a far-away plane and yet seem impossibly within reach. Above him is an inky blackness, and below him is the earth, glowing with its own light.

_“Don’t let go, kid,”_ he hears Alkmene say, and looks up to see the merchant in question looking down at him, the glowing green eyes behind the mask searching his own. He is still in their arms, holding on tight, and he shakes his head, not planning on letting go just like they said.

“Where...where are we?” the child whispers, glancing around them once more. It takes him a bit longer to realize that the two are simply floating in the space around them, with nothing underneath their feet to stand on. Alkmene seems unbothered by this.

_“We are between dimensions right now,”_ Alkmene responds, straightening up slightly. _“I’m sorry. It was the only thing I could think of in the moment.”_

William remains quiet at this, burying his face into Alkmene’s shirt before taking in a deep breath - and realizing that, up until this point, he hadn’t been breathing at all. How had he not noticed that? How had he not suffocated due to not breathing?

_“I...don’t think we can go back there, at least for a while,”_ Alkmene says quietly. _“But I know of another place we can go. I have a friend there; we can rest easy for a bit. Does that sound good?”_

The child simply nods once. He is still too shaken up to think coherently, and even though he barely knows this character, he doesn’t want to be left alone anymore.

Alkmene pauses before patting William on the back somewhat awkwardly. _“It’ll be okay, William. It’ll be okay.”_

“...You promise?”

_“I promise.”_

The words sound comforting in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you want ocs? we got ocs!

The soft sound of machinery fills his ears as William sits down on the bench, all alone in the warmly lit laundromat. It was a “laundromat” - Alkmene had called it that - the place where he is surrounded by washing machines and dryers lined up against the walls and in the middle of the room. Some of them are turning, but most of them are not.

He seems to be alone, at least on this side of the isle. Alkmene had gone off somewhere deeper into the establishment, and had told William to stay where he was until they returned. So he waits.

The lulling hum of the machines was nice to listen to, even in this unfamiliar place. Over the speakers quietly plays a song that he did not recognize, in a language he had never heard before. The temperature is warm in this place, comfortably so, especially after the coldness of what happened to them yesterday.

Was it yesterday? Time doesn’t seem to pass correctly in this place, nor was it passing correctly back at home...but yesterday feels like a safe bet.

William takes off his cloak and balls it up in his arms, placing it on the bench all wrapped up and patting it like a pillow before laying down with his head on it. He is no less than exhausted, especially after everything that had happened. He just wants to rest, and what better time to do it than now? Alkmene had reassured him that they both are safe here, and he feels so cozy…

It takes a bit, but soon enough, the child is drifting off to sleep on the bench in the laundromat, before his name being called catches his attention and he opens his eyes to see Alkmene crossing into his line of sight. They’re dressed differently now, wearing a loose red shirt with a hood with a black vest over it, with a purple belt and a long blue skirt, and their telltale mask is gone, replaced by a light blue-grey cloth that covers their face from the nose down. In one hand holds their walking stick, in another holds a basket of old clothes, probably to be put in the washing machine. On their back still lies their backpack.

_“Tired?”_ Alkmene asks with a small laugh, setting down the basket of clothes and sliding off their backpack, placing it onto the bench near William’s head. _“I understand. You may rest for as long as you need to.”_

William simply blinks up at them tiredly, letting out a small yawn before snuggling back up against the bench as best he could. He watches as Alkmene picks up the basket of clothes again and opens the empty washing machine in front of them, dumping the clothes in there before closing the door to it, inserting some pons into the machine, and turning it on. The machine hums to life as the child closes his eyes again.

He can feel the bench near his feet shift, presumably as Alkmene sits down at that location, but he doesn’t open his eyes even as he hears them speak again after a bit. _“Do you have a change of clothes with you, young one? I’m sure the ones you’re wearing right now need a wash.”_

“Mm...no,” William yawns from his spot. “I didn’t bring any…”

_“Hm, well…”_ Alkmene mulls this over for a few seconds. _“I wonder if the tailor is in today. They’re a friend of mine, and they could weave you some new clothes in no time. Does that sound alright?”_

William simply nods tiredly, and he could feel the bench shift again as Alkmene stands, and he opens his eyes to see the merchant in question standing over him, holding their hand out to him to help him up. He leans up slightly and takes their hand, and is easily pulled up by the other before standing on his own, grabbing his balled-up cloak and starting to follow the merchant as the two make their way through the laundromat.

It’s only past two isles of machines before the two reach a sort of walled-off room near the back, a simple open door separating this room from the main one. Alkmene pushes the door open slightly wider and steps in, calling out, _“Linen, are you around?”_

A shuffling sound is heard before a small figure pokes their head out from behind a curtain in the back of the room. This figure, with brightly colored skin and piercing neon eyes, almost seems to do a double take at the sight of the two before disappearing behind the curtain again with a muffled call of “wait hang on!”. Scuttling sounds can be heard from behind the curtain, as well as almost-comical clanging and muttering before the character pushes aside said curtain and stands before the two.

They stand much taller than William originally thought - not as tall as Alkmene, but still up there - with a round face and body and two little curved horns poking out of their head. They wear no shirt, but instead black leggings and a blue jacket tied around their waist, with no shoes. Their neon blue eyes flick between the two, almost apprehensively.

“Ceol?” the character named Linen says, almost in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

_“In the flesh,”_ Alkmene laughs, taking a few strides towards Linen, who in turn embraces them in a tight hug. _“It’s been a long time, friend.”_

“It really has been!” Linen seems to be laugh-crying as they speak. “I missed you so much! Where have you been?”

_“Many places.”_ Alkmene is the first to let go, lightly patting Linen on the back as they wipe their eyes. _“I have a new companion now, as well.”_ Alkmene gestures back to William as they speak. _“This is the young Prince William-René of Subcon.”_

Linen pokes their head out from over Alkmene’s shoulder before making their way over to the child in question, holding out their hand to him. “Nice to meetcha! I’m Linen but I’m sure you already knew that. I run this place. How are you?”

William blinks once before shaking the other’s hand, lightly, tiredly. “I’m sleepy.”

_“He’s had a...long day,”_ Alkmene says from behind Linen. One could tell from their eyes, despite being behind the cloth mask, that they are smiling sadly. _“We both have. That being said, Linen, I have a favor to ask of you.”_

“Yeah?” Linen replies, pulling their hand away from William and turning back to the merchant. “What is it?”

_“I would like you to make some new clothes for the child,”_ Alkmene says. _“Since I rescued him from the forest overgrowth, he didn’t get a chance to bring more with him. I’m sure something clean will make him feel better.”_

Linen puts their hand to their chin, considering Alkmene’s proposal. “I don’t see why not, old friend. What kind of payment do you have today for it, though?”

_“I have an excess of pons on me right now. Just do whatever you can, I can pay.”_

The gleam in Linen’s eye is bright as they turn back to William. “Alright, kid, what the big man says goes! Here, follow me.” They take William's hand again, more carefully this time, and start to guide him towards the back room behind the curtain. “What kinda clothes do you want? Something comfortable? Something cute? Something you can travel in? I can do pretty much anything.”

William simply stumbles after Linen, trying his best to keep up with their long strides with his own short child legs. It takes a bit for him to speak, as he’s guided into the back room where all of Linen’s sewing equipment is, but finally he gives another yawn as his hand is let go of and he plops down on a bench by a mirror, laying his cloak down on it as well. “Something...something comfy would be nice.”

“Comfortable it is.” Linen busies themself trying to clean up slightly, picking fabric scrap and other things off the floor, clearing a space for William to stand. Soon afterwards they grab a roll of measuring tape and gesture for William to stand back up - which he does - and positions him to where his arms are out and they can start taking measurements - which they do, chattering along as they go.

“I was thinking something big and drapey, y’know? Maybe like a big comfy shirt and some shorts, with a poncho over that. I’ll also find a scarf for you to keep, just in case Ceol decides to take you somewhere cold.” They pause in their speech, the measuring tape wrapping around William’s forearm, before they mark a number on their own arm with a dark marker. “Speaking of which, you _are_ going to be traveling with them from now on, right?”

“I...I don’t know.” William simply blinks as the measuring tape stretches across the entire length of his arm, and Linen makes another tally in response. “I don’t know if I can go home, but…”

“Yeah, homesickness sucks, I get you. But they seemed pretty adamant on introducing you as their new travel buddy, so I’m guessing that’s their plans?” Linen sticks out their bottom lip a bit, glancing off to the side before continuing. “I dunno. It’s always hard to tell what Ceol’s thinking.” Another pause in their chat. “You’re kinda young looking to be going on such an adventure, though, jeez. How old even are you?”

“I’m eight years old.”

“In what time system?”

William blinks again in confusion. “Uh. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Like, y’know, what universe are you from?” Linen wraps the measuring tape around William’s chest and makes another mark. “‘Cause right now you’re kind of in-between dimensions. Creatures of all kinds come here and do business with me, from many different worlds, all with their own systems of doing things.” Another pause as the measuring tape wraps around his waist, longer this time. “You’ve never been outside of your home world, have you?”

William shakes his head. “I didn’t...think that was possible?”

“Well, congrats, I guess?” Linen looks up at William, and the two lock eyes for a second before they shrug. “Sorry, I never really know what to say to new world hoppers. Anyways back on the topic of your clothes, I think we can get away with just washing your boots and having you keep those, they’re very time-consuming to make. What colors do you like?”

“...I like blue,” William finally responds.

“You really aren’t the talkative kind, huh, kid.” It’s more of a statement than a question as Linen clicks their tongue once. “I’ll do my best to incorporate some blues into your clothes, but you don’t get to complain if you don’t like the rest of the colors.” They stand up, swiftly rolling the measuring tape back into a ball and tying a rubber band around it before holding one hand out. “Give me your boots, I’m gonna wash ‘em. You’ll get new socks though.”

William reaches down to untie his boots before handing them over to Linen, who takes them and sets them aside next to a long table with a sewing machine and other assorted piles of fabric and notions on it.

“I’ll get to those in a bit. Right now, why don’t you get some rest on that bench back there? I don’t have any pillows or blankets though.”

“That’s okay.” William simply yawns again and rubs his eyes, trotting back over to the bench where his cloak is and bunching it up like a pillow again. Before he sits down, though, he catches a glance at himself in the mirror - and pauses.

His long brown hair - yesterday morning it was tied up all neat, now disheveled - hangs in strands around his face, the short ponytail loose behind his head. His face seems paler than usual, and his eyes are no longer their dark brown color - or have any color at all. All he sees is bright white, no iris, no pupil. The more he looks, the more he swears his eyes are glowing faintly.

He blinks, once, twice, staring at his reflection. Is this real? This can’t be real. None of this can be real, can it?

...He turns his back on the mirror and lays down on the bench, closing his eyes and trying to rest.

The thoughts still swirl around his mind, but eventually the various sounds of Linen skittering around the room and the machinery outside lull him to sleep.


End file.
